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A Pack of Vows and Tears Page 4
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He slung a big arm around my shoulder. “The pack takes care of their own, Ness.”
My wide gaze ping-ponged between the two males crowding the lobby.
“Are you crying?” Matt asked.
I touched my cheek. Sure enough, my fingertips came back damp.
“Is it that time of the month . . . again?” Lucas offered, sporting a smile that made me want to punch his throat.
I flipped him off a second before August’s mother popped out of the office, jingling a key. I dropped my hand back to my side, praying she hadn’t caught my vulgar gesture.
Lucas’s lips quirked in a taunting grin as he pocketed the key, but then fell flat as his gaze landed on a spot over my head. I sensed August stood behind me, sensed it in the pit of my stomach which writhed as though the invisible rope that connected us had been cranked.
“On your way to off all the baddies?” Lucas asked.
“I’ve postponed my trip.” August slowly wiped his palms on a pair of jeans blemished with grease smears and wood stain. “Two of the lightbulbs on the living room chandelier need changing. You know where I can find some, Ness?”
“Yeah.” I ushered him toward the supply closet. The room smelled of laundry detergent, cool metal, and dusty cardboard. “Lightbulbs are over there.” I pointed to the shelf that sat underneath a hatch window, and he walked over and riffled through the rows of bulbs until he located the ones he needed.
“I’ll get those screwed in before I leave.”
Something occurred to me then. “Does Liam know you’ve postponed your trip?”
He stopped in front of me. “Not yet.”
“So your mom coming over to help, that was your idea?”
“Not just mine. My parents didn’t want you to be alone. So Mom called Kasie. I suppose Matt called Lucas.”
“Going to go unpack, roomie,” Lucas said to me while staring at August, who stood inches from me.
I backed up until the base of my spine hit the doorframe. “We’re not roomies, Lucas.”
“Almost. Hey . . . you got an extra pair of ear plugs in there? Wouldn’t want to overhear any moaning.”
My body went completely rigid.
Glass broke. I shot my gaze down to the boxes of lightbulbs clutched in August’s fist. Without saying a word, he went to grab new ones, staying next to the shelving a minute, surveying the piece of sky visible through the hatch window.
“Anyway, if you find me a pair, slide them under my door, will ya?” Lucas said, starting down the hallway, humming some chirpy tune. Before turning the corner, he called out, “Hey, August, you should stop by Tracy’s. There’s a certain waitress who’s going to freak the fuck out when she learns you’re single.”
The muscles in August’s back bunched up.
“I have to go check on”—I swallowed—“on the laundry. Thanks for all your help.”
And with that, I hurried away from the supply closet, feeling my navel throb as the distance between August and me grew and grew.
5
I stayed in the laundry room a long time, sorting through dirty sheets and towels, and also through my emotions. After three loads of washing and drying, and two hours’ worth of ironing, only the inn sheets were neat. My insides were still a complete mess.
I wanted to drop everything and head to the gym to punch my way to a clearer mind, but there was still too much that needed to be done before I could clock out. I returned upstairs to check on Isobel, praying I wouldn’t run into anyone else.
“Everything okay up here?” I asked August’s mom.
“Everything’s great, sweetie. We got a couple reservations for the weekend and a birthday dinner on Friday for a party of twenty. I checked in with Evelyn and placed a grocery order, and I was just now updating the wine list. Oh, and someone left a hotel bike out front. I found it when I greeted some new arrivals. I didn’t know where to put it, so I wheeled it inside the office.” She gestured behind her while clicking through an excel spreadsheet—I supposed, the inn’s wine list.
When I entered the office, my body went as stiff and cold as a block of marble. A nametag tied around the handlebar flapped in the cool air blasting from the revolving fan in the corner. Spit jamming up my throat, I snagged the tag and popped it off its string, hoping beyond hope Isobel had tied it.
In dark marker was written: So you can stop by again.
A chill crawled up my already icy spine.
“Did you see who dropped it off?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t betray my nerves.
“No. I just found it at the bottom of the driveway.”
Had Aidan delivered it? Considering the injuries Lucas had inflicted to the bastard’s neck the night he’d shot Liam, I doubted the hunter was strolling around Boulder, transporting bikes. He’d probably had his driver bring it over.
I crumpled the tag and tossed it into the bin.
Like hell I would pay the creep a visit.
I guided the bike out the inn doors and down the driveway toward the stockroom where Lucy and Jeb stowed the hiking gear, kayaks, fishing poles, and other paraphernalia they made available to guests.
As I walked back up, I squinted down the driveway into the bright sunlight, looking for Aidan’s chauffeured limo, but if it had been here, it was long gone.
Meeting at eight tonight at the inn to discuss Everest Clark’s fate. Every pack member convened.
Liam’s voice was so sharp and clear I swiveled my head, expecting to see him, but not a soul stood next to me. After I got over the shock of hearing him, I focused on what he’d just said: Everest Clark’s fate. My pulse picked up, thumping against my eardrums. I peeked at the first floor. Behind one of the windows lay my uncle. Had he heard Liam’s call too, or had Liam excluded him?
I went back inside the inn, grabbed the master key, then climbed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I knocked before entering my uncle’s room.
“Jeb?” I called out. When I saw the comforter shake and heard a muted sniffle, I hurried to his side.
“Liam will . . . he will . . . kill my son.” Jeb’s voice was as thick as the syrup I’d ladled over his pancakes. “My only child.”
So he had heard Liam. “He said discuss. Maybe—”
“You don’t know the ways of the pack, Ness. You’ve been part of it for what? Twenty-four hours? Wolves have no mercy.”
I bristled from his condescending tone. “I may not know as much as you do, Jeb, but they didn’t avenge my father’s death. Maybe they won’t kill Everest.”
“He strangled Heath and left him floating in his pool. You think Liam will forgive my son? Oh, dear girl, you have so much to learn . . . ”
I pressed my lips together. Even though my urge to walk out was strong, I stifled it. “Can I get you anything, Jeb?” I asked stiffly.
Without glancing away from the Flatirons beyond his bay window, he whispered, “Why did he have to go and kill him? Did you ask him to do it?”
My vertebrae locked up. “How could you even think that?”
“Because of what he did to Maggie.”
“In case you forgot, Heath also raped Becca. Maybe she asked Everest to kill Heath.”
“She was in a coma.”
My throat locked up like my spine. I swallowed. “Before she tried to take her life and fell into a coma.”
My uncle’s reddened gaze drifted toward me before returning to the panorama of mountains. In a way—unknowingly—I’d been an accomplice to Heath’s murder, but if I’d meant to kill him, I would’ve done it. I would never have asked someone to do my dirty business. How could my uncle think so poorly of me?
“Call me,” I whispered, backing away from his bedside. “If you need anything, call me.” I wheeled around and clambered back down the stairs.
Isobel looked up from the computer monitor she was checking. “Is everything okay?”
I nodded. “Concerned about Jeb, that’s all.”
Isobel didn’t respond, but I could feel her stud
ying me.
I went out onto the wrap-around deck to clear my mind. Instead, the dense forest reminded me of Aidan and of the strange note he’d sent. I tried phoning Liam to tell him about it, but my call went to voicemail.
The pack meeting was in a few hours. Informing him could surely wait until then. It wasn’t as though it was a threat. You didn’t threaten people with invitations. Then again, Aidan Michaels was a crafty man. Maybe it was an underhanded threat. A reminder that he knew how to get to me . . . how to get under my skin.
I pushed away from the knotted wood railing my father and the Watts had crafted. I wanted someone else’s opinion on the matter and since Liam wasn’t answering, I decided to seek out my “roommate.”
6
I knocked on Lucas’s bedroom door and didn’t stop until he drew it open.
“Geez. Give a man a minute.” Lucas stood there barefoot, sporting a pair of low-riding sweatpants that displayed too much boxers and a wifebeater that showed off too much biceps. Although I wanted to tell him to pull up his pants, I hadn’t come to police his poor taste in fashion.
I strode into the room, kicking the door shut.
“I usually don’t turn down booty calls, but—”
“Oh my God, get over yourself.” I rolled my eyes. “If you were the last man on Earth, I would still never get with you.”
He smiled. “That’s cold, Clark.”
“I’m here because I got a strange delivery.”
His smile vanished. “I’m listening.”
“The night I went to Aidan Michaels’s house, the night he shot Liam, well, I used one of the inn bikes to get there, and it was returned to me just now with a note saying, So you can stop by again.” I said this all in one breath.
Lucas’s eyes darkened. “Who returned it?”
“I don’t know. Isobel found it in the driveway.”
“How do you know it was the same bike?”
“I don’t, but—”
“Maybe the note was meant for someone else.”
I growled in frustration. “Fine. Don’t take this seriously.”
His jaw ticked. “Have you called Liam?”
“I tried. He didn’t answer.”
For a long minute, Lucas stared at me as though trying to decide whether to trust me.
I rubbed my clammy palms against my jeans, then looked around the room that was almost identical to mine: same beige drapes, flannel-covered armchair, copper light fixtures, white sheeting. Only the landscape painting on the wall was different.
“Look, I came to you because I thought you could help me figure out if I should be worried about Aidan—”
“You should always worry about people who have too much money and influence, but we’ve got a bigger problem than that bed-ridden asshole right now.”
My extremities turned bone-chilling cold.
Lucas dropped into the armchair, then leaned forward, elbows planted on knees, fingers slotted together. He watched me as though contemplating whether to tell me. Finally, he said, “This morning Liam found out something was stolen from HQ.”
I frowned. What did the Boulders keep in Headquarters that— “The selection stick?”
Lucas snorted. “You wish.”
I did wish.
“The pack’s entire supply of Sillin is missing.”
“Sillin? You mean the anti-shifting pills?”
He nodded.
My mother had made me ingest Sillin for three weeks when I’d moved to LA to prevent my body from shifting and to dim my scent in case other werewolves were in the area. She didn’t want anyone sniffing me out. Lone wolves were deemed loose cannons and, thus, were hunted down by packs. Eventually, distance from the Boulders caused my body’s werewolf gene to become dormant, and I no longer needed the drug.
“Why would someone steal them?” I asked.
“According to Greg”—it took my brain a second to remember he was the pack doctor—“they don’t make them anymore.”
“So?”
“So there’s a market for them.”
I couldn’t believe I was having an actual conversation with Lucas without wanting to throttle him. “Who do you think stole them?”
“We don’t think; we know. Cole checked the surveillance feed as soon as Liam called him.”
“Who took them?”
“Who do you think?”
I gritted my molars. “Seriously, Lucas? You’re going to make me guess?”
“Everest. Everest fucking took them. And guess when? At the exact time you showed up at the Watts’ warehouse to duel Liam. And the only reason we didn’t catch him earlier is because when there’s a duel, the whole fucking pack has to be present, which meant the person in charge of watching the surveillance feed of the inn and of HQ was at the fucking duel.”
I bristled. “Are you insinuating it was my fault?”
He let out a ragged breath, running his palms the length of his face. “You didn’t know what he was up to, right?”
“How could you even ask me that, Lucas?”
“I’m sorry. We’re just trying to figure out what his endgame is, that’s all.”
“Are they worth money?”
“You think Everest stole them for monetary gain?”
“You said they were rare. Maybe he took them to buy himself alliances with other packs.”
Lucas perked up at that theory.
“Or maybe he’s planning on using it on us?” Like I’d used it on Heath, which had been Everest’s idea.
Lucas’s pupils became pin-sized.
“You hadn’t considered that?” I asked.
He slapped his hands against his knees, and the loud clap startled me. “Fuck me.”
“Never.” The word popped out before I even realized I’d uttered it.
Lucas smirked, but then the effect of my humor was lost as we both mulled over my suggestion.
“We have to call Liam,” Lucas finally said.
And so we did, and this time our Alpha answered.
7
Liam stormed into Lucas’s bedroom about fifteen minutes after our phone call, arrowing straight for me. Once he reached my side, he cupped my cheeks and swept his gaze over every inch of my face as though to ascertain I was unscathed. I wasn’t sure why he imagined I was hurt, but who was I to complain someone cared enough to worry about me? One of his hands drifted down my arm to my fingers, while the other drifted over the faint white scars he’d inadvertently clawed into my cheek during the last trial.
Lucas updated him on our theories and told him about the bike. In the grand scheme of things, the bike seemed futile.
“He doesn’t know about the meeting today, does he?” I asked.
“He didn’t pledge himself to me, so no, he didn’t hear.” Liam stabbed his hand through his tousled hair as he paced the small room. “If the bastard plans on poisoning us with Sillin, he has another think coming.”
“At least Sillin can’t kill us,” I ventured, but regretted my words when both Liam and Lucas slanted looks at me. Sure, I’d given some to Heath, but it was the silver cord Everest had wound around the Alpha’s neck that had snipped his life.
“Sillin might not kill us,” Liam said gently, stopping his mad prowl, “but it’ll steal our edge.”
I swallowed back the overwhelming guilt. Even though Liam hadn’t been a fan of his father, Heath had been his only remaining parent, and I’d had a hand in his demise.
Liam ran his thumb over my furrowed brow. “Stop blaming yourself.”
I whispered, “I’ll never stop blaming myself.”
Liam gathered me to him and stroked my hair. His minty musk scent swirled around me, soothing my fried nerves.
“What are you thinking, Liam?” Lucas asked after a beat of silence.
“I’m thinking I should pay Aidan Michaels a little visit like he asked.”
I pressed away. “No. The man’s a psychopath! You can’t go back there.”
Liam shot me a smile that wa
s all at once rueful and dangerous. “Ness, he won’t shoot me again.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because one, we’ll show up prepared; and two, he’s at the hospital.”
“Liam—no.”
“What would you have me do? Sit back and wait for him to reach out to you again?” Liam stroked the edge of my quivering jaw. His touch just made me shiver harder. “No one threatens one of my wolves. No one.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” I said.
“Absolutely not.”
“Liam—”
“Out of the question, Ness.”
“But—”
Liam shot Lucas a loaded look, probably gave him a silent order, too, because Lucas said, “On her like spandex.”
Gross, and so not fair. I told them so. Not the gross part, but the not-fair one. I even squared my shoulders and gave both men my fiercest look, or what I hoped was a fierce look.
“What’s not fair?” Liam asked. “Trying to keep you away from danger?”
“Isn’t the pack motto to protect the Alpha at all costs?” I asked.
Liam narrowed his dark eyes. “You would be protecting my sanity by staying safe. If anything happened to you, I’d go feral, Ness. I’d go feral and maul whoever got in my way. Preserve my sanity, please.” He scraped a knuckle against my cheek.
I pouted, angry to be benched. “I hope it’s not because I’m a girl and you think I’m too delicate, because I’m n—”
“It’s because you’re my girl,” he said.
“I’ll just wait outside,” Lucas mumbled.
A second later, the door snicked shut.
“Mine, Ness.”
“And how do you think I’ll deal if anything happened to you?”
“The pack will protect you.”
My eyes heated up.
A deep emotion rushed over his face, and he pressed his mouth against my forehead, then against each one of my eyelids, my nose, my jaw, my scar. He didn’t leave a single millimeter on my face untouched. No, that wasn’t true. He hadn’t kissed my mouth yet. But his kiss came, and along with it, waves of intense sensations. They pummeled and filled me like the Pacific Ocean had pounded and foamed against the sandy shores of Venice Beach.